


Overtime

by finesharp



Category: Repo! The Genetic Opera (2008)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2010-11-24
Updated: 2010-11-24
Packaged: 2017-10-13 08:39:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,060
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/135319
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/finesharp/pseuds/finesharp
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Workaholism is genetic.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Overtime

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Amber Largo (amberswansong)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/amberswansong/gifts).



Amber leaned back in her chair and groaned when she saw the clock. It was past two in the morning. Her assistant had reminded her as he left that she had to be getting on her plane just after dawn, but that was hours ago and she had lost track of time. She stood, stretched, and walked out the door.

The new CEO of GeneCo sighed as she walked down the hallway from her office. She'd taken the room next door to her father's office, as she hadn't been able to bring herself to move in there yet and she didn't think her brothers would take it any better. The walk to the elevator still seemed too long, though, and she was contemplating moving it again when she noticed the light coming from underneath one of the doors she passed. She recognized it as the old CFO's office; Luigi had commandeered it weeks ago, almost as soon as she took over.

"I thought I was the only one stupid enough to work this late." She knocked. He didn't answer; she didn't really expect him to. She went in anyway, half-expecting to find him asleep at the desk or looking at porn.

Instead, he was literally up to his shoulders in paperwork - stacks of paper reports from branch offices and flammable acetate files for particularly sensitive information. Even more numbers were displayed on his screens. He was glaring at the numbers intently, as if deciding whether stabbing the monitor would be as cathartic as stabbing his last assistant had been, and every few moments she could see his throat move as he gave new subvocal commands to the computer.

"Who do you think you're trying to impress, Luigi?"

He jumped as if he hadn't even heard her come in. "I'm not-"

She didn't even have to listen to the sentence to know he was lying. "Nothing you do is going to fix what happened with Dad."

"Fuck off," he snapped, staring down at the desk now.

"You don't have to review everything right now."

He picked up a sheaf of acetate and waved it at her. "Have you seen some of the things that Dad was sinking money into? And he was fucking worried what Pavi and I would do! Fucking christ, Am, this is a snake pit."

Amber walked over to him, laying a hand on his shoulder. "The snake pit will be there on Monday, Mr. Largo. Nobody's going to be around for you to fire until then anyway. Don't you have something you could be doing for the weekend?"

Luigi tensed under her hand. "No."

"You're lying to me again."

"I'm not."

"Go call one of your friends, Steve or somebody. Go see Nathan in the hospital. But you have to do something."

"I don't want to."

"You sound like a five year old." She kissed him on the forehead. "That's an order, Luigi. Leave your office or I'll fire you."

"You can't order me to get over what he said." He was leaning against her now, though, and she knew she was winning.

"No, I can't. And I'm not going to try." She traced heart shapes on the back of his neck. "I am, however, going to do what's best to keep this company and our family going. That means having you here on Monday morning, rested and less homicidal than usual, so you can give me the financial report."

"Yes, ma'am," Luigi answered. He was now very definitely leaning into her cleavage and she let him linger there a minute before she started to turn away.

He frowned like a child. "Where are you going? How about you make sure I go to bed?"

"Not tonight, Luigi," she said it so that it was a promise, and would placate him. It worked. "I've got to go out."

"Again? Aren't you tired of that shit?"

"Exhausted," she confessed. "But no one will believe I'm in an office all day long, so I have to put in the face time to remind the public I'm in charge. Eric Garcia invited me to the debut of his company's fall line, so I have to be in Rio De Janeiro."

"Watch out for the photo ops. There've been rumors for days that his company's trying to make a play for market share now that Pop's out of the picture."

Amber laughed. "Eric's never designed an original organ in his life. If I didn't know better, I'd say he was born with cloned parts."

"He doesn't have to succeed. Just make sure you don't get to close to him. I'm sure he's trying to wring every drop of investment he can get out of the rumor."

"Of course," Amber smiled, "but I think I have a better idea."

"Oh?"

"What would _finance_ say about us acquiring his company in, say, six months, when he's ridden that rumor out and mismanaged the new investment funds the way he always has?"

Luigi thought this over for a minute. "Finance thinks that's pretty hot."

Amber laughed. "Finance better not say that at the board meeting when we discuss the purchase."

"Aww, come on, babe. Who's left to care?"

"Public face wasn't just for Dad, Lu. It's for the public."

He sighed. "... That's not fair."

"The world just isn't ready for us." Amber bent over and kissed him again, this time on the lips. "I suppose that will always be true. We're just too fabulous."

"Their loss," Luigi grumbled.

"Now _I_ am going to bed, because I have to fly to Rio in the morning. And you are going out, because you need a life outside this office as badly as I do. Now shoo." She crossed her arms and waited as he stood up and grabbed his netpad. He copped a feel as he passed her, and they walked to the end of the hall together, her heels clicking smartly along the tile.

They waited a moment for the elevator to arrive, and Amber flinched away from the reflective metal doors.

"You look great, by the way," he said as the elevator doors opened with a ping. She realized he must have noticed.

"I haven't had anything done in weeks." There was still a whine in her voice that she didn't like, but the itch was almost gone.

"I know." And then they closed.


End file.
